Flirting with Death
by lilphoenixfeather
Summary: Some adorable gajevy in a Hades/Persephone AU. Done for gajevy lovefest 2017.


_AN: This was kind of an accident. I really wanted to participate in Gajevy lovefest and was suddenly struck by this idea, so you get a random Hades/Persephone AU. If I finish it as planned it will be about five chapters._

 _I can't do all the prompts so I'm just cutting my losses and going for realistic expectations, since last time I only finished one, lol. I am hoping to have everything published before lovefest is over. *crosses fingers*_

Death was not an all powerful God.

But within his realm, he was all seeing.

Gajeel had taken to the Underworld almost from the beginning, being banished for his bad temper and general distaste for his siblings' politics, but that suited him fine. None of the other Gods had wanted this realm of death and darkness, and their disinterest had benefited him unexpectedly. The residents of Olympus were in some ways obligated to perform extravagant gestures to mankind to build their power, but he'd had no need for it. After all, even if Gajeel did nothing for mankind and they did not appreciate him as a God during their life, they all gave him power in death.

Truthfully, the Underworld had been his, and only his, for so long that he'd amassed a certain power over it. He had guards and loyal, if gloomy, servants in the event that there was an attack, but he did not need them. He as attuned the ebb and flow of his land, and could see every inch of it if, even if he did not necessarily want to. The Underworld was far from the boisterous hub of Olympus, but his subjects did have lives of a sort. On more than one occasion he'd seen the more personal side of their relations without even meaning to. Still, he'd lost any voyeuristic tendencies a long time ago; everyone deserved a little privacy, even in his realm.

But more than being able to know anything that happened within his realm at any time, he could predict it. Inevitably people died, they begged for forgiveness, occasionally a misguided hero would try to steal back someone's soul, his subjects lived their rather miserable lives, and sometimes another God would visit for a favor. It was always the same. The Land of the Dead may suit him far better than the golden spires of Olympus, but it could be quite… dull.

Until she came.

He wasn't even sure how she got in, but suddenly she was there - a brilliant beacon of color amongst a landscape of greys. Still, even though she clearly did not belong here, looking like a vibrant sun amongst the gloom, Levy had decided to stay. And so he let her.

It had taken a while for him to get used to her presence. He wasn't opposed to her company - she was actually quite clever and not intimidated by his gruffness - but it had been so long since another God had visited without needed a favor. Surely she must want something. So he watched and waited for her to reveal her true motives. He watched her visit what passed for flowers down here and water them carefully. He watched her sing cheerful lullabies to help soothe the babies taken before their time. He watched her walk among the dark masses of his people, easily spotting her in her bright attire, as she asked them about their day and shows genuine interest in their predictable lives. He watched her read the tombs he'd amassed in his library, far darker than anything she could possibly find on Olympus, and smile as ran her fingers down the spines. And still she did nothing that might cause concern.

He kept watch long after she had ceased being a suspicious intruder. By now he couldn't exactly stop himself, it was addicting to see the world brighten when she was near. But even Levy, _especially_ Levy, deserved the privacy that he had afforded everyone else over the years, so he tried very hard not to watch her when he shouldn't. After all, it was obvious there could be nothing between them, so there was no point in looking at what he could not have.

He'd slipped up a few times. He didn't know what he was going to see before he looked, so it was only the in the course of things that he found her bathing occasionally. He always made sure to jerk his mind away in these instances. Perhaps not as quickly as he should have… but quickly enough.

Unfortunately, it was becoming a curse, the knowing. Even if he'd looked away, he'd still seen what she looked like without the colorful robes she preferred, or with water dripping down every delectable curve. He'd seen - and forgetting was not an option. Every day he endured his own lesson in self control, but for the most part, he only watched when it was appropriate. It gave him peace to watch her bring joy to the land of the unjoyful, or merely to watch her be.

Tonight was no different. There was a charge to the air; a staleness that preceded a storm. As long as he'd been down here, Gajeel knew it likely meant there would be a battle on the horizon; tomorrow there would be a large influx of souls, sacrificed for the sake of generals and politicians in the name of the God of War. Still, it left him restless.

He cast his mind to her, hoping that her peace would help him rest, but Levy was similarly affected. She was tossing and turning in the bed that he'd given her; the dark sheets that twisted against her pale skin hid her modesty but did not hide that she was bare underneath. His breath caught, loud within the silence of his own room, and he warred with himself as he had done with increasing frequency. Now was not an appropriate time to be watching her. He should turn away and find another way to calm himself down for sleep. Reading maybe - about the perils of wanting a woman he couldn't have.

While Gajeel was internally making a list of every book in his library dedicated to lovesick fools who got themselves killed (not an insignificant amount), Levy shifted, throwing one arm over her head while the other was buried under the covers. She writhed again, this time with more purpose and less restlessness, and her body arched against the fabric. It was becoming abundantly clear to Gajeel that her hidden hand was not merely remaining idle, but was touching the very skin he craved. He couldn't pull his gaze away from the way her lips parted for her panting breaths or the way her lashes lay heavy over her eyes. He should look away. He should look away. It was a mantra he chanted in his head even as he greedily took in the way her tousled hair stuck slightly to the curve of her neck and the sheets bunched against her bare leg, knee bent to give herself better access. He should _absolutely_ look away.

As the rough pants of her breath turned into low moans, he thought maybe he actually should look away. After all, she'd decided she lived here now, and Gajeel had to face her tomorrow. He was slowly working himself up to it. He always looked away eventually, and now would be no different.

At least that's what he thought, until Levy arched again and moaned.

"Gajeel" She breathed, on the edge of a broken whimper.

He froze.

She hadn't. Had she?

Yet even as he lay convincing himself that he was dreaming, Gajeel knew that he could never have imagined how his name would sound in her ecstasy. He groaned when she moaned his name again, kicking off his sheets. He'd never been overly fond of his name, never loved the sound of it until that moment. Desperately he wanted to go to her, march down the hall and show her the pleasures that could only be shared, but that would likely frighten her away forever. He would take this.

He hesitated only a moment more before pulling down his undergarments and wrapping his hand around his arousal. As Gajeel stroked up and down his length he imagined what her skin would taste like. She had moved enough during her ministrations that the sheet was no longer covering her completely, her breasts bare and peaked in the night air. He wanted press his face against them and tug at her nipples, making her cry out for him instead of soft moans she was making now. Levy moaned again, her movements were becoming more frantic as she neared her climax. Gajeel sped up his strokes to match her, imagining it was her sheath he was pumping into instead of his hand. Goddess, the way she _moved_. He desperately wanted to know if that was the way she would move under him; arching into his chest as he claimed her.

It was almost too much to handle, to see her so close to her peak but unable to take her there. He _needed her_ to come - to come for him, because in this moment it felt like she was his. Tomorrow she wouldn't be, but right now he could imagine pressing his hand between her legs and stroking her until she came. His hand tightened around his cock as he thought about how she would tighten in response to his touch.

Almost as if she knew, Levy shuddered and gasped; gripping the sheets tightly as she came. It gave him no small amount of satisfaction that it was his name on her lips as she succumbed to her passion. It seemed only fair in turn, when he came shortly after, that it was her name on his.

 _AN: In case you missed it that was "mutual masturbation" ahaha. Hopefully you enjoyed voyeuristic Gajeel._


End file.
